Piano, Performance, Personal
by moonswirl
Summary: Gleekathon, day one hundred and forty-eight: ABCs #16 On the tenth anniversary of his mother's death, Kurt reflects on the legacy she's left him.


_Started my daily ficlets to make the hiatus pass, then decided to keep going with a second cycle, and then a third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh cycle. Now here's cycle 8!_

_Walking through a bookstore back in december, I saw the series of books by Sue Grafton that go "A is for...," "B is for...," etc, and I got the idea for this set. It will spread over the end of cycle 6, and carry through cycles 7 and 8, to be posted on alternating days. [And by the time we reach the end, Glee will be a week away!!] What I did is I found three words for each letter that would have some significance to Glee, and I built a plot around it. You with me? Okay, here we go..._  
_**16 of 26:** P is for..._

* * *

**"Piano, Performance, Personal"  
Kurt**

He knew this day would come, knew it wouldn't be easy. And now here it was. Ten years, to the day… ten years since his mother had died. That was more than half his life without her. Ten years without her smile, her hugs… cookies on rainy days… Ten years, and he still remembered how she smelled. He just didn't want to forget any of it.

It always comforted him to hear how much he was supposedly like her. He liked that. It was as though it didn't matter if he didn't know her as well as he would have wanted to. All he had to do was to look on to himself, and he'd know.

Of course it wasn't completely true. It didn't not matter that he didn't get to know all of her. He was a child, her child, and that was how he got to know her. He didn't know the rest of her, not really.

The one thing he really knew, deep and without hesitation, was how much she loved music. She had started him on the piano and wanting to play it. He would forever be thankful because in wanting to be closer to her memory, he had discovered that made his heart soar… music, singing…

A few years before, he'd gone to his father and asked what his mother's favorite song had been Kurt could tell he'd remembered instantly. It was all over his face.

"Desperado," he'd said. "She would hum it when she cooked," he smiled.

The memory was vague, but he swore it hit him just as his father had said it. Still, he went to his room and looked it up. He put on headphones, and the moment the song flooded his ears, it was like being back in the kitchen with her, helping.

On that morning, the tenth anniversary, he'd gone along with the regular routine of preparing breakfast. The routine did help him not to get too stuck in the mindset of what the day was, but still he was left to wonder how his father would be, if he'd be normal or not really there mentally. When he came into the kitchen though, he seemed okay. There was still a sort of sadness in his eyes, enough that he really wished he didn't have to go to school. But he still went. He'd just come home right after…

The day went on like any other, really… why should it not? He didn't tell anyone what was going on. Mercedes asked if he was alright, and he just promised her he was fine. He could easily have told her, and she would have been right there at his side the whole way. But that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted a normal day. She was still there for him though, without knowing what was on his mind. He was always glad to have her as a friend, and moments like this were why.

The moment he walked into the room for Glee practice, he felt himself drawn to the piano, fixated on it. There was no thought to it really, it was just like it was calling to him, asking that he do… something. He spent the whole period sitting there, staring at it. He was sure Brad was wondering what on earth had possessed him.

The period went on, much like the day. When it was done, and everyone was leaving, he felt his feet resist. He wanted to stay; he had something to do. Mercedes asked what he was doing, but he just sent her on her way. Mr. Schuester made a pass at it too, and Kurt didn't give him an explanation either, but it wasn't questioned. Finally he was alone with the piano which had captivated him on that day. He sat, staring at the keys before laying his hands on them. He didn't even need to think about what to play, sing.

_[K] "Desperado / Why don't you come to your senses / You been out ridin' fences / For so long now / Oh, you're a hard one / But I know that you've got your reasons / These things that are pleasin' you / Can hurt you somehow"_

He would feel her presence, like she was with him, whenever he would play it, almost communing with her. He still remembered her voice, and never as much as when she sang.

_[K] "Don't you draw the queen of diamonds, boy / She'll beat you if she's able / The queen of hearts is always your best bet_

_Now it seems to me some fine things have been laid upon your table / But you only want the ones that you can't get"_

When he got home, he pulled out a bowl, ingredients… he'd make his mother's oatmeal and raisin cookies. He knew his father would appreciate them, and he would, too. He still pulled out his mother's recipe book, with her neat handwriting. He'd learned the recipe by heart long ago, but he still pulled out the book, for tradition's sake.

_[K] "Desperado / Oh you ain't gettin' no younger_

_Your pain and your hunger / They're drivin' you home_

_Freedom, ah freedom / That's just some people talkin' / You're a prisoner walkin' / Through this world all alone"_

When his father came home, the smell was everywhere. Kurt was sitting at the kitchen table, doing his homework. He looked up, meeting his father's eyes. Burt came up to the table, to his son, giving him a small smile, the best he could do; his throat had closed up. Kurt stood, hugging his father. Burt hugged him back, not a word needed.

_[K] "Don't your feet get cold in the wintertime / The sky won't snow and the sun won't shine / It's hard to tell the night time from the day_

_You're losin' all your highs and lows / Ain't it funny how the feelin' goes away"_

After dinner, they ate through the cookies. Kurt asked for the same old story, the tale of his parents' first meeting, at the garage, and Burt told it, same as he always told it. They would not focus on the sadness, not now. They would remember and they would celebrate.

Kurt went to bed with those happy memories, with those cookies he'd eaten, and with the song he'd played and sung for her. But in the silence of night, and with nothing but his mind to accompany him, he couldn't chase away the fact he missed her just as much now as ever.

_[K] "Desperado / Why don't you come to your senses / Come down from your fences / And open the gate_

_It may be rainin' / But there's a rainbow above you / You better let somebody love you / You better let somebody love you / Before it's too late"_

THE END


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